


Insistence Reward

by twincest



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Does it count as necro if it's an android?, F/M, Masturbation, Molestation, Necrophilia, One Shot, Pining, Post-Canon, Reader is a detective, Reader is a robophile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twincest/pseuds/twincest
Summary: Although she’d seen Connor “die” occasionally during their time together, she’d never been asked to look after his body until Cyberlife’s retrieval unit arrived.This was indeed a rare opportunity.Without any other commotion left, the suspect hauled away in a cruiser and the police tape already fenced over the warehouse entrance, the detective was left to stare at the RK800 in silence. Alone.It was all too easy to remind herself that this was only the RK800 right now.It was Connor when he was inside of it. But that didn’t make his shell any less handsome. The fact that he even had a shell and could interchange them was endlessly fascinating and a testament to the eternal beauty of Androids.(EDIT: Sequel chapters added, with two different endings.)
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s), Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To go straight to the smut, proceed to chapter 2!  
> Please excuse any typos or errors as this has not been beta'd. 
> 
> Some notes: this story takes place a few years after the events of the main game in a semi-pacifist ending. Certain Androids working in police units are in fact allowed to have their own guns (and there are some other changes but they aren't relevant here).
> 
> About our detective (that's you!):  
> Detective-chan is an eccentric robophile whose specialty is interrogation.  
> She wears smart sunglasses and a cat shaped clip on her scarf. Although she's not physically durable, she feeds into the first impression she presents to people to put herself at an advantage.  
> Shortly after transferring to the DPD, a serial killer targeting Androids and humans alike rears their head.  
> Invigorated by the excitement of hunting down possibly the first documented Android serial killer, our detective begs to be put on the case and is partnered with Connor.  
>   
> [Full details + art of Detective-chan here if you're interested!](https://detective-chan.carrd.co)  
> 

The shootout would occur at approximately 3:40AM, with the RK800 being left incapacitated having sustained extensive damage to its vital components. A new body would be nothing less than necessary.

After being tipped off that a male matching the description of a suspect in the Dahlia 2 murder case was reportedly seen rummaging through garbage bins outside of an abandoned warehouse, Connor and the detective were sent to investigate.

Odds of this suspect being the perpetrator weren’t high despite the physical match-up, but reinforcements were standing by the perimeter of the property. 

“With all due respect, Detective, I don’t think there’s much you can do here. You can’t see in the dark and using a flashlight immediately would tip the suspect to flee. You should wait here and I’ll take him by surprise.” Connor released the safety from his gun as they approached the entrance.

He nodded towards the side of the building. “There would be the best place for you to wait. Just in case.”

The detective contemplated following his advice for a moment, watching the cloud from her sigh dissipate into the air.

What he was saying was true, and there was no logical reason for her to  _ not  _ stand guard at the only exit the suspect could take should matters escalate.

[X] Wait outside

_ ([O] Insist) _

“I’ll be okay.” The detective hated feeling like a dead-weight, her human eyes ill-suited and inferior, but it would have been unthinkable to let her partner go alone. She may not be able to see in there, but she wasn’t deaf. Hearing had to count for something, right?

Not that he couldn’t hear better than her, too.   
The more she thought about it, her choice made no sense and didn’t align with her normal reasoning at all. It didn’t  _ feel  _ like a thought she would have and the concerned look on Connor’s face only instilled a pang of regret in her.

“Sorry.” The detective shook her head. “I-I don’t know what came over me.”

“At your discretion,” Connor relented, sounding unsure. “Then I must politely ask that you stay behind me for your own safety.”

“Okay,” the detective replied, quickly enough to mask how her heart skipped a beat at how he was so mindful of her. She  _ was  _ going to fully concede and tell him she’d stay outside, but before she could pull herself out of her infatuation he was already grabbing the door handle. 

She cringed as Connor pulled it open, a metallic shriek echoing throughout the wide empty space. They paused, waiting to hear any indication that their prey was alerted. 

“He’ll definitely know we’re here now,” she whispered after a few seconds. “Flashlight?”

“Not yet.”

The warehouse was filled with boxes, shelves, and boxes on shelves--at least as far as she could see. The city lights provided low visibility for only the immediate ten feet in front of the door, maybe a little less. It was packed and disorganized but this was unfamiliar territory and just because she could only see a mess in front of her didn’t mean the entire building was like this.

Despite the uncertainty, Connor stepped forward without hesitation and began following a path that the detective struggled to follow into the pitch black. She clutched her gun in her pocket with sweaty palms. 

She thought about how amazing it was that an android could walk so quietly. If the door hadn't screamed when he’d opened it, they truly would have had the one-up on whoever was lurking about.

The detective had already profiled the person they were after as being someone took absolutely no risks and wasn’t at all convinced that this could be him. The warehouse was too close to the city for the Dahlia 2 to use it for anything. There was an apartment building directly across the road and the sidewalks were moderately busy, too.   
Their suspect was far more reclusive to use something like this.

Anything could happen, however, and she reminded herself that she could be entirely wrong about the suspect.

_ Okay, it’s moderately dangerous I guess… _ _  
_ It could be anyone in this place doing anything. Drug dealer? Human trafficker--no, a human trafficker that also sold organs on the black market!   
“Oof!” She stepped into Connor’s back, not hearing him stop, and fell sideways onto the hard floor.

As she pressed her weight into her hands to pull herself up, a flash of gunfire lit up the warehouse in quick succession. She could hear Connor firing next to her, followed by a ringing that deafened everything else. A hot liquid sprayed onto her face. 

She fumbled for her gun, struggling to stand back up, hurried footsteps vibrating on the floor as a presence whirled past her and towards the light of the exit. 

That was when she saw him: the suspect, a male with auburn hair, dashing at full speed to make his getaway.

“Freeze!” The detective shouted, although she couldn’t hear herself, and fired her gun at him--once, twice, hitting the door. Springing into pursuit, she darted outside after him. 

Pulling the trigger three more times as she clumsily ran in the snow, the suspect collapsed in the distance.

She stopped in her tracks and kept her barrel aimed at him, too wary to move closer just yet. “Connor, we got him!” She gasped, realizing that she’d been holding her breath, and glanced over her shoulder. “Connor?”

Oh no. 

Head still ringing, a blurred voice called at her from a distance. Officers had circled the suspect in just a few seconds and were arresting him. Wherever she’d hit him, he was alive enough to resist.   
_ Serves him right. Hope he’s hurt. _

The detective dropped her gun to the ground and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. “Oh, fuck. Goddamn.”

She tilted her head back to look at the sky and sighed loudly.

“Detective!” An officer approached her with a brisk jog. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” the detective said, voice breaking. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Um, Connor on the other hand…”

* *  *  *  *

  
With an electric lantern setting in the middle of the floor and lighting up an entire circle of the warehouse, the detective watched as the other officers took photos of the crime scene--including the shut down RK800, who had fallen to his knees with three gunshots through the chest. 

He looked almost like a mannequin posed for a haunted house tour, on his knees with one arm stiffly extended outwards where he’d been holding his gun, which by now had been peeled away and stored in an evidence bag. 

“Should we move him?” Someone asked.

“No,” came the answer from the chief. “Cyberlife should be here within the hour to take it back. Hey, detective!”

“Yes?” She watched a woman snap a few more photos of Connor’s body, then firmly lay him onto his back and fold his arm down to his side. 

“You mind waiting here until Cyberlife gets him? Protocol says we aren't allowed to just leave it so…”   
Seeing someone else so freely touching the RK800, even wearing gloves, prodded her heart with a flash of jealousy. It faded as quickly as it’d appeared, but an idea had already taken root. 

“That’s fine. I don’t mind.” She had no intention of leaving in the first place, but tried not to sound too excited at the prospect of staying here alone with her partner’s corpse. 

“Sorry to pin it on you,” the chief continued, regretfully. “After all that’s happened tonight, but you know we’re short handed--”

The detective softly smiled at him and shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine, really! It feels right I should look after him. He’s always looking out for me.”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets, watching the RK800’s motionless form and rocking on her heels impatiently. 


	2. Chapter 2

Although she’d seen Connor “die” occasionally during their time together, she’d never been asked to look after his body until Cyberlife’s retrieval unit arrived.

This was indeed a rare opportunity.

Without any other commotion left, the suspect hauled away in a cruiser and the police tape already fenced over the warehouse entrance, the detective was left to stare at the RK800 in silence. Alone.

It was all too easy to remind herself that this  _ was  _ only the RK800 right now.

It was Connor when he was inside of it, but that didn’t make his shell any less handsome. The fact that he even had a shell and could interchange them was endlessly fascinating and a testament to the eternal beauty of Androids.

But that pained expression on his face with wide open eyes didn’t hurt less with the knowledge that “he” wasn’t in there. 

The detective sat next to him, on her knees, facing him; thirium stained her leggings and felt cold against her skin. She wondered if, when she would arrive home later, what exactly thirium would taste like if she sucked it out of the fabric.

She removed her gloves, one a time, not taking her gaze from him and then reached to his face with both hands and shut his eyelids. 

His skin was so soft. 

She cupped his cheeks with her palms. 

So. So. Soft. Inhumanely so. It sent her heart into a frenzy to just be touching Connor right now--she’d fantasized about it so often since their first meeting and now it was happening.

Not the way she intended, but on the off-chance that Connor would return her feelings one day (a perfect Android settling for a human partner? Yeah, right, she thought bitterly) touching him now could be...practice.

She wouldn’t want to spill her spaghetti on him if it did happen one day, then have to apologize and explain to Connor exactly what “spilling spaghetti” meant and thus ruining the moment.

“C-Connor…” She whispered, brushing the tip of her index finger over his LED. It felt lighter than she had imagined. 

If this was practice--if this was pretend--then it’d be okay to speak aloud, right?

Keeping her left hand on his face, she brushed her right over the bullet wounds on his chest and contemplated unbuttoning his shirt. While she didn’t want to see the huge gaping punctures, this was a rare opportunity to see his bare chest.

The detective peeked over her shoulder.

What if the Cyberlife employees showed up before she could button him back up?

No, no, she reminded herself that she would definitely hear them approaching and even if they did walk in on her with the RK800’s torso exposed she’d tell them that it was done to assess his damage. Yeah. That was believable.

With a lick of her lips and a familiar warmness pooling in her panties, she hurriedly peeled his shirt open. The bullet holes in his skin were smeared in blue and if she were to shine her flashlight inside of them she would likely see his insides. 

[X]Flashlight

_ ([O] Don’t) _

Although she knew what Androids looked like underneath their artificial flesh, she’d never seen  _ Connor's  _ insides…

She thought about taking just a peek for the sake of curiosity, but the thought disgusted her that she’d even consider taking him apart like some psycho who dissected roadkill as a kid.

It would still be a violation to stare at his guts, even with his body not technically having them.

Gliding her fingers down his chest, she gasped at how smooth he felt. It wasn’t like human skin, but much better and somehow a little firmer ( _ it made sense, _ she figured,  _ because Androids don’t bruise as easily as we do _ ).

Blotches of drying thirium bursted under her touch and released a faint, sterile scent. She sniffed her hand and sighed. 

Yes, he was perfect. Her pupils dilated. 

“Connor, you’re so perfect, y’know…”

The detective maneuvered herself to straddle his waist in one swift movement, placing her stained palms on his shoulders. “I’m sorry that this happened to you because of me. Will you forgive me?”

She unbuttoned her jacket and tossed it to the floor all the while not looking away from him, taken aback by the breeze blowing through the door and forcing her nipples to perk up underneath her shirt.

Pushing her chest against his, she licked up the side of his neck. No sweat. Nothing salty.

This was just another part of what made Androids so attractive.

“If you forgive me,” she whispered into his ear, squeezing his bicep. “I’ll make you feel really good!”

_ He’d probably say something like, “I’d rather you no longer take unnecessary risks when I assess that you’re putting yourself in danger”. _

“How about both?” She answered herself and gently nuzzled her forehead against his LED, wishing that she could beam her mind into his. It was so cool when Androids spoke nonverbally with one another…

“I think...I only wanted to follow you to try to impress you.” Holding his cheeks with both hands, she stared at his face, soaking in the delight of committing these details to memory. His freckles. The tuft of hair that was always loose. 

She couldn’t resist kissing him, pushing her tongue between his cold lips. He tasted almost exactly like a human, and the roof of his mouth even had tiny ridges. His tongue was dry and it being cold was slightly off putting, but it didn’t stop her. 

The detective shoved a hand against her crotch, resting her face against his chest. . Her leggings were thick--too thick to rub out on him. She whined, having never been so turned on in her life, and resigned herself to shredding them. 

Her skirt was long enough that no one would notice. It would be really fucking cold on the way home, but that was well worth it. 

She reached into her inner coat pocket a few feet away and pulled out her pocket knife. 

_ Careful, careful… _

Containing her excitement just enough to not cut herself, she sliced her leggings open with a few simple tears. She set the knife aside and pulled her panties over to slide a finger against her warm and slick vulva. 

“I’m so wet...all thanks to you.” 

She scooted back against his hips and palmed his crotch, thinking that if only his dick still worked she’d ride him out fast; for a moment she contemplated unzipping him, but decided that would be best saved for when he could use it.    
Seeing it now would only further tantalize her.

How big was he, anyway? She’d read that some Androids could adjust it and if that were the case with Connor, what was his limit? 

Certainly she intended to find out on another day. 

She grinded her hips against him with a shuddery sigh, her clit rubbing the metal of his zipper and prompting her to move faster. Her pussy felt so pathetically empty right now.

As she rubbed herself on him harder, she could feel the flaccid member underneath the fabric of his pants. She whined, thrusting erratically, and imagined instead that Connor was fully functional and watching her impale herself on his entire dick.

She’d tell him that it’s so huge, that she could barely take it--no, if she said that he might mistakenly think she’s hurting herself (in a bad way). 

“Ha, no, it’s okay,” The detective whispered. “I-I want to…”

Looking down at his unmoved, blank face, she felt her cheeks heat up. “I  _ want  _ to destroy myself on your dick, s-so don’t worry about me!”   
Saying something so dirty aloud made her insides clench. 

The detective swallowed and ground herself against him in small circles, doubling over so that her head was resting against his chest. Breathing in the scent of thirium, she closed her eyes as she continued humping him like an animal heat. 

Her fingers squeezed his shoulders, imagining how blissful it’d be to have her walls stretched open and her cervix bruised up by the head of his cock. In this position, he’d be pushing her uterus back up into her body.    
Imagining Connor sliding in and out of her over and over again, soaked in her own shameful fluids that were presently staining the fabric of his pants, it’d be nothing for him to bring her to orgasm repeatedly.

She wanted to feel like a toy underneath him, a small and delicate doll designed for him to fuck out his frustrations. The mental picture of him holding her by her waist and railing into her with abandoned had her drooling    
How sexually repressed was he, anyway?   
Once he’d get a taste of how tight she was around his dick, gripping him like a vice, he’d never want to go another day without fucking her.    
The detective arched her back, rubbing her breasts against him and whining. 

“H-Hey, are you close? It’s okay…” She breathed, kissing his chin. “You can cum in me if you want.” 

Lacing her fingers through his hair, she kissed him again and imagined what he’d say.

_ Probably something like, “is it really okay?” _

“Yes,” she choked out, tears stinging her eyes. So close! Just a little more. 

How much did Androids cum, anyway? And if Connor had never done this before (she was fairly certain he hadn’t), then she wondered what it’d be like the first time?

Would he want to watch her unravel underneath him until she couldn’t stop her legs from shaking? It would  _ only  _ be then that he’d let himself finish, assured that she’d reached her peak already.

By the time he was thrusting into her to the hilt with every move, unable to contain himself, she’d be covered in sweat and sticking to him.   
When he came in her, she’d feel every ounce of him being pushed into her as his dick tensed. It would feel sticky and wet and there’d be so much of it that she’d be overflowing by the time he pulled out.

With her being a drenched mess, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes, she’d touch his face and ask him if he felt good.   
_ He’d say something like… _   
_ Like… _ _   
_ _ What would he say? _

She didn’t know.

The detective reached between her legs, confirming her own orgasm with a despondent sigh.    
And just like that, it was over. She wasn’t satisfied.    
She rolled off of the RK800, taking her finger and mixing her fluids with the thirium stuck to the creases of her palm. 

* *  *  *  *

“You said the shootout occurred at 3:40?” The Cyberlife employee asked the detective, jotting down notes on his tablet.

She glanced over her shoulder at the two androids placing Connor into a white, coffin-like box. “Yes. When I, uh, looked at my phone right after it happened it was 3:42 so…”

“Interesting,” he commented idly, still typing away at his device. “And he’s been unconscious this entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“His last uploaded memory was only a minute ago.”

The detective’s jaw dropped. 

No. This could not be happening!

_ What the fuck did you do?! _ If only she could kick herself! But she couldn’t, so instead she dropped her eyes to the ground and kicked a pebble with her the toe of her boot. 

“I-I’m sorry?” She shook her head, as if she hadn’t heard him. “What?”

“He updated his memory only a minute ago.”

“But his--his--” She pointed to the temple of her head, deflated of words. “It wasn’t on and he wasn’t moving or responding!”

The employee disregarded her panic and shrugged nonchalantly. “It can happen, you know. He’s clearly conscious; the most likely scenario is that, to delay his shutdown he shut off all of his other functions. Is something wrong?”

“Well no!” She said quickly. “It’s just that--I mean, is he in physical pain? Has he been hurting all this time?”

“Androids don’t really ‘hurt’ so no, even if he did have a sensation of feeling his injuries it wouldn’t be like what you or I would experience. “

The detective tapped her fingers together. “I see. So um. His current body can be fixed?”

The man shook his head and went back to his tablet. “Too much damage, but we’ll have him brand new and back out to the station tomorrow by noon.”

Her face was hot with embarrassment. She scratched her neck. 

As she contemplated what she would even say to him tomorrow, minutes passed and Connor--not the RK800--was loaded into the van. 

“You need a ride?” One of the other Cyberlife employees asked her.

“No, I have one coming, thank you.” She gave them a polite wave with a forced smile and watched as the vehicle disappeared into a thickening flurry of snow.

Feeling the wetness on her panties start to freeze and the thirium on her knees drying, she retrieved her jacket from the warehouse. It would be a long walk home, but she didn’t want to see even a taxi driver right now. 

Instead, she sat on the floor and texted the lieutenant to inform him that Connor had been picked up. 


	3. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the readers asking for a part two, I decided to expand upon this while working on some other things  
> It hasn't been beta'd and this was written over a few sessions, so forgive any spelling errors or typos :x
> 
> Detective-chan is something of a brat in this because her neurosis stat in this "playthrough" is high, yet I feel a little sorry for her  
> Her neurosis is raised by a significant amount each time she sees Connor die, so my idea is that she'd need to see him die at least twice to even possibly consider doing what she did  
> (Thinking about this timeline, it will probably end badly...)

It was half past one in the afternoon and the clock couldn’t move slower unless it completely stopped.

She scrolled through the case files opened on her monitor, doing her best to look away from the cat shaped analog clock inches away. 

The detective sat at her desk at the precinct, knees to her chest and a pen in her mouth. The cap was already chewed to hell, but this was specifically her “stress” pen and _no_ it wasn’t gross if it had been in her mouth because it was _hers_! 

Connor would be here any minute now and she still had no idea how she would even face him.

Would he immediately confront her about last night?  
Or maybe he’d deduce that the best course of action would be to play dumb? After all, what benefit is there to calling her out and making things awkward?   
Not as if things weren’t awkward already, at least from the detectives point of view. 

_Unless…._

_No_ , she told herself. _It’s not that obvious I like him!_

More important than her romantic life or lack thereof was the Dahlia 2, who was still at large hacking and slashing androids and humans alike and sending letters to the local news stations. Catching the Dahlia 2 would secure her place here at the DPD and give her a substantial amount of credibility as a detective.  
It wouldn’t be like back home, where she’d gotten lucky. This would be an accomplishment of her own merit!

She idly scratched the side of her head with her pen.

_Yeah, I like it here in Detroit. I wouldn’t mind making this place home after--_

A tapping on her desk interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head to see Hank, who was giving her a confused look. 

“Yes, Lieutenant?” 

“Have you not checked your phone?” He asked, his tone insulted.

“Oh…” She slid her glasses over her eyes. Two unread messages, both from Hank. “Sorry.”  
She marked them as read and took her glasses off, setting them on the desk. “Don’t feel like being connected today.”

“Well that’s fine but are you coming or not?” 

“Uh…” 

“Did you not even read them?” He was baffled that the detective of all people wouldn’t even read her texts. “Did seeing Connor get fucked up yesterday do that big a number on you or what?”

“Um. Just a bit.”

“I’d think you’d be used to it by now. Come on, get your coat.” He decided that she needed the fresh air and was already heading towards the door. 

The detective grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and slid it on, following after him. She didn’t especially want to go anywhere, but she didn’t want to come across as disrespectful to her superior and Hank had this paternal air about him that made it difficult to disobey him--at least, when it was coming from a place of caring. “Where are we going, Lieutenant?”

She reached to pull her glasses over her eyes as they approached the door only to realize she’d left them on her desk and for a moment she debated on running back and grabbing them. 

“Cyberlife’s taxi broke down a few miles away and the interstate is backed up thanks to a twelve car pileup so we’re picking up Connor and I’m using it as an excuse for an extended lunch break.” 

“O-Oh.” The detective winced as they stepped outside.

The harsh winter wind smacked her in the face.

On one hand, her glasses would at least let her hide her eyes from Connor when she’d no doubt face him full of guilt but on the other hand messaging via her text app in her glasses had become a frequent non-verbal way to communicate with him and would provide him a channel to silently question her even with Hank right there.

She wasn’t sure which edge of the sword was sharper, but they were already climbing the parking garage stairs by the time she decided it’d be too much trouble to run back to the station, anyway. 

Watching the clusters of buildings fade in and out of view below an overcast sky, the detective considered the possibilities of what was about to happen. 

Logically, she told herself, it’s not like Connor would confront her about it first thing and in front of the lieutenant no less. He knew that would be embarrassing and surely wouldn’t do that to her, right?

_Don’t you think you humiliated him, though?_

She brushed the thought away; being exposed in front of another person wasn’t her primary concern, anyway.

No, her worry was that eventually they’d be alone and he’d bring it up. 

They worked together, so being alone was something she couldn’t avoid.

_Running from consequences?_

_No._

_Sounds like you want to._

_There’s only two possibilities._

Either Connor would say something or he wouldn’t. 

And if he says something?

_Then there’s nothing I can do._

_Just own up to it._

_What’s the worst that can happen?_

“So what the hell is going on?” Hank’s voice pulled her from her internal struggle, muting the radio. She hadn’t even heard that it was on. 

“Huh?”

“C’mon, kid. You’re spacing out. Left your glasses.”

“It’s just.” She rubbed her eye. “Hard seeing him die so many times, you know?”

The lieutenant sneered. “Bullshit.”

“Um….” He wasn’t buying it?!

“You’ve always thought it was cool. You love Androids more than anyone I’ve ever met--you know they don’t _die_. Not in the way we do.”

“Maybe I was just coping? In my own way?” The detective was too shaken by his seeing right through her to make herself believable now. She scrunched her shoulders. “M-Maybe?”

He glanced over at her. “Bullshit. But it’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.”

Silence.

“I, uh.” The detective rubbed her hands together and looked out the window.   
_I thought I was the interrogation expert?! ...To lose at my own game…_ _  
_ _It’s because you wouldn’t stop arguing with yourself._

_Shut up!_

“I just really like Connor is all,” she admitted, sighing heavily in defeat. “ _Please_ don’t tell him.”

She hid her face in her hands and doubled over, mortified. She’d spilled half of her forbidden secret and considering that Hank was essentially Connor’s dad she expected a stern lecture about how she was clearly a robophile and to not engage his son in such nonsense.

Instead, he laughed, only further embarrassing her. He slapped the dashboard, finding her suffering amusing. She groaned. 

“Please don’t tell him!” She pleaded, shaking her head. 

“You aren’t even telling me anything I don’t know--how old are you, again?”

“I’m...I’m almost thirty, even if no one treats me like it I _am_ an adult.” She crossed her arms and looked out the window, her face red, and to her horror they were approaching a white van parked just beside the interstate ramp with “CYBERLIFE” stamped on it. “...We’re already here?”

She slid into her seat and out of the view of the window, her scarf bunching up against the seatbelt.

Hank snorted as they decelerated and pulled off the road. “C’mon, don’t be a fucking baby.”

The detective puffed her cheeks. “You don’t understand. I’m gonna die.”

She was practically sitting on the floor now. 

“If you have to die, at least get out of my car first so it doesn’t become a crime scene.”

He parked and she hurriedly slid back up. “I’m going to wait in the back.”

“Yeah, okay.” He exited the car and she could hear him greeting Connor and the driver with, “so what the hell happened here?”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the cold outside and opened the door to make a rush to the back seat.

But no sooner than she stepped out did Connor call out to her from the passenger seat of the van..

“Detective, you came along too!” 

She turned to him and weakly waved, gaze diverted to the snow on the ground. “Y-Yeah…”

“Are you okay?”  
 _That was fast._

“I, uh, just forgot my glasses at the office. I’m a little bummed about it. Bored. It’s cold out here so I’m going to wait in the car.”

“I’ll go ahead and join you!”

“O-Okay!” The detective hurriedly climbed into the backseat of the car, reminding herself that he’d either bring it up or not and that if he did she better brace herself. 

Just how far could she avoid him anyway? She felt so stupid for wanting to put off the consequences to her actions despite knowing it was unavoidable. They worked together, they still had a killer to catch--that’s right, she reminded herself, regardless of the outcome of her personal relationship with him she’d have to continue working with him. This was too important to let her feelings get in the way. 

Still, her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. 

The door on the other side opened and Connor sat next to her, a gush of cold air blowing in as he closed the door. 

“I’m glad to see you, Detective.”

Somehow, she forced the self control to talk to him as if nothing was wrong. “Me, too.” She smiled at him, but couldn’t maintain eye contact. No way he wasn’t noticing her increased heart rate. 

Connor leaned forward. “I was wondering if you’d catch me up on the case.”

“From yesterday?”

“Yes. What happened after I was incapacitated? What is it that has gotten you so shaken up?” He was staring right through her, his LED flashing amber.

“Now?” The detective peered past him to see Hank inspecting under the hood of the Cyberlife van. “Hank will be here in a minute, right?”

“He’s inspecting the van. He said that might be able to tell what the problem is.”. There was a certain _force_ to his insistence on discussing this.   
Was he disgusted with her? 

“Ha…” The detective scratched her arm. “He must really dread going back to work.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, he’d just got there when we left so...”

“I meant at the warehouse yesterday.”

This was it.   
There was no way he didn’t know, right? He’d uploaded his memory after she was done with molesting him and getting off on top of his dead body. But at the same time, if she indicated she didn’t want to talk about it, maybe he’d drop it?   
Connor’s priority was still the investigation, right? So if it was for the sake of carrying on as normal with her, then there was a chance he wouldn’t press the issue.   
_Would it really be fair to ignore how it made him feel? If he’s angry you’d rather just cover it up so you don’t have to be embarrassed._ _  
_ _Shut up, shut up, shut up…._

[[X] Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991779/chapters/69251949)

[[O] Cover Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991779/chapters/69252012)


	4. [X] Truth

“Okay, Connor, I admit it.” The words were spilling from the detective’s mouth before she could talk herself out of it. It’d be better to just get it over with. And she felt  _ weird  _ about this. “I…”

_ Rejection can only hurt once but denying yourself that rejection can hurt forever. _

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding her face between her hands and folding into her lap. “You have every right to hate me!”

To her surprise, Connor placed a hand on her back and scooted closer to her. “What are you talking about? It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“Y-You really don’t know?”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I just need to understand what’s going through your head, Detective. It’s perplexing me.”

She peeked out at him from behind her fingers. “I’m sorry. I just really like you. I…”

Now that she’d confessed, all that was left was to seal her fate. She forced herself from her lap, looking up at the roof of the car and pulling her knees to her chest. “You’re really attractive and you know I’m already into Androids anyway...but y’know, it’s not like human corpses. So even though it’s weird, I thought it was okay to get off on top of you and...kiss you and stuff. And I might have said some weird things! But if you were in there I wouldn’t have done that, uh, without...your permission….”

“Detective,  _ that’s  _ what’s bothering you?” He twisted his head in confusion. 

She shyly shrugged. “Y-You don’t think that’s weird?”

“Detective, you don’t lack permission to touch me when I’m alive, either.” He took her hand to demonstrate. “See?”

“R-Really?”

“It’s natural for humans to have sexual urges, right? The relief could improve your performance in the investigation.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t bother me what you did, Detective. It’s as you said, my former bodies are not the equivalent of human corpses. They’re things.” He squeezed her hand. “You know more about Android behavior than the average human. Attaching their sentimentality to it just because of your feelings for me is foolish.” 

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, completely taken off by this turn of events. “I, um...where to start? Connor, I-I don’t want to just have sex with you for the sake of the investigation. That’s...that’s a little much. I only did that with you because I like you. And because I’m a pervert...”

Connor was humoring her. “You’re silly. If I didn’t like you, too, I wouldn’t be okay with it. But I’d calculated there was only only a 10% chance of you confessing so quickly.”

The detective sneered. “Should I be insulted? I-I mean, I really do feel bad about it.”

“Not at all. I underestimated you.”   
“C-C’mon, don’t tease me!” 

He let go of her hand and she realized Hank was coming back. 

Setting her feet back on the floor and grabbing her seatbelt, she huffed. They’d have to finish this conversation later, but if she was understanding him correctly this meant that he returned her feelings?

“You’re definitely teasing me!” She whispered low enough that Hank wouldn’t hear as he opened Connor’s door. 

“Connor get out here and help me with this car engine software wireless connection shit,” Hank said, not paying any attention to the detective’s flushed state. “This is why I don’t mess with ‘smart’ cars.” 

He didn’t give Connor time to refuse and started back towards the van, leaving the door open and cold air blowing in. 

“We should talk about this tonight at your place.” 

She nodded, shivering. “Yeah, that’s fine. But, um, w-wait...uh before you go...”

“Yes?”

“Does this mean you think I’m cute?” 

“Detective.” He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her forward to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her. “I think you’re positively adorable.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this all the way through, and I hope you had fun!  
> I'll be writing more as I feel like it, probably something not as dead dove next time


	5. [O] Cover Up

The detective wondered if she could lie to him--if he’d already noticed her heartbeat then he’d likely be able to tell when she was lying. 

But she couldn’t deal with the embarrassment right now.  _ Maybe another time _ , she told herself,  _ even if it only prolongs my suffering _ .

_ At least this way I can pretend to have a chance. _

“Detective, did they apprehend the suspect?” He asked, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You really aren’t okay and it concerns me that you seem so shaken up. Did he get away?”

“Oh, uh, no. Actually I shot him. Alive.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead. 

_ Of course Connor would want to know that!  _

“Wait,” The detective shook her head, piecing together the implications. “You didn’t hear the gunshots? You didn’t hear me or anyone else talking around you? When I was giving a report to the chief we were right here next to you...”

“No, my shutdown was nearly instantaneous. Was he the Dahlia 2?”

“No,” she said, sighing in relief. “He wasn’t. I’m just uh. Frustrated, I guess. You know? Our first suspect lead is some random hobo who was selling red ice out of a cooler. I shot him and that’s paperwork.”

The narrow escape provided her with a drop in adrenaline and her heartbeat was slowing down. “That’s why I’m out of it. That’s all. I feel better after telling you though.”

“Detective, are you sure?” Connor didn’t believe her. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m perplexed by your sudden anxiety regarding shooting another person, considering last time, but it’s understandable you’re upset that our investigation hasn’t made much progress,” he said regrettably, looking away from her and facing forward.

He was dropping it? So he really didn’t remember?

_ Or is he choosing not to confront me? _

The detective tried to read his face, but it was impossible. She rested her elbow on the window sill and looked out to the snow. It was coming down harder. 

“In any case,” Connor continued. “I’m worried that your mental state could affect the investigation. You’ll need to recuperate.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied, unsure of her decision. She was already regretting it. Was delaying rejection and dragging it out really the right thing?

_ Yes. It’s better than being rejected. _

_ Is it? _

_ It has to be. _

The detective reached for her glasses, momentarily forgetting their absence,, and instead brushed her hand against her bangs. “Like I said, I feel better after telling you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Detective-chan sure is a coward here huh... tsk tsk  
> Neurosis ^^^^^  
> She's not gonna make it :/

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ^u^  
> 


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